


Hail Mary

by sailorkittycat



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: F/M, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Nuns, Priest Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-22 02:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorkittycat/pseuds/sailorkittycat
Summary: Eve goes to the annual halloween party hoping to see Roman, but when she's disappointed that he's not there she escapes to the local church where she finds more than she could have ever prayed for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.... this fic has a lot of religious symbols and themes that I've inverted for um, sinful stuff. If you're either sensitive/find the mixture of religion and sex off putting then this is not the fic for you. If you find it hot then we're both messed up. I really liked writing this though... I hope you like reading it.

The cool, quiet air of the church was a welcome relief after the roar of the party. Eve took the opportunity to let the stillness fill her lungs, and closed her eyes relishing the feeling. Church was a haven for many, but for Eve it was a space where she could contemplate and not be rushed. She wasn’t quick to defend the existence of God - neither did she dismiss it completely – but she would forever and always support the preservation of churches. Her steps echoed even though she walked carefully down the aisle. She knew the layout of the church like the back of her hand; feeling confident enough to walk through it despite the only source of light being the half-moon shining through the stained glass of Mary Magdalen. She insisted on reaching out to feel the smooth wood of the pews flank her.

How many Sundays had she spent fidgeting in them wishing mass would end? Now she sat there freely, shivering as the coldness of the seat permeated the thin fabric of her cheap Halloween costume. She wondered idly if it was blasphemous to sit in a holy place dressed in such a sinful manner but she hadn’t burst into flames yet so she figured God was cool with it. Or that He didn’t care enough to comment.

“ _In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti_ ” she whispered to herself as her eyes adjusted to the dark. For some it would be frightening to sit in an empty church at midnight. Eve imagined that had she pitched it to her fellow party goers their response would be far from appreciative. She chewed the insides of her cheeks, a little annoyed that she had wasted her time at Ashley Valentine’s annual Halloween party. It had been a typical teenager affair; alcohol, bad music, even worst decisions. She had only let her friends convince her to go along at the secret desire of seeing Roman Godfrey there. It wasn’t like him to turn up at social events either, but his dealer was going to be there so there was a pretty good chance he’d show his face. Eve had spent most of October and even September wondering what to dress as. She wanted to do something provocative, knowing that Roman would respond to it. She and her friends had clicked through internet pages filled with trashy outfits. Slutty teacher to naughty nurse were available but they felt too bland for Eve.

“I want something daring” Eve said, fiddling with the small cross she wore. It had been a present from her grandmother before she had died and Eve listed it as the most precious thing she owned.

“Sexy clown is pretty out there” her friend said but Eve stuck out her tongue, half laughing at the very words.

“Who’s out here finding clowns sexy?”

“Who’s out here finding nuns naughty?” another friend asked pointing out the costume. It had consisted of a black lycra dress that reached mid-thigh on the model; the neckline was scooped low, and it came with a habit.

“I am.”

It turned out that the risqué costume caught the attention of a lot of boys, and even a few girls but none of them were Roman. Eve had felt her heart sink into her stomach, and childishly mooched around the party losing her friends on purpose so she could sulk. She rejected the advances of many and ignored the judgmental looks from others, all the while thinking of what a colossal mistake this all was. So she had run away to church to take solace in the faint scent of frankincense and the crinkled copies of the Bible.

Eve stood up to approach the front of the church, pausing to admire the statue of Mary. Mary’s face was peaceful even when wickedness stood directly in front of her, and Eve reflected briefly on how the church was a home for saints and sinners alike. The altar of the church was an untouched space. You weren’t usually allowed up here but Eve embraced the excited somersaulting of her heart and stood as the priest would. She looked over her imaginary congregation, snickering at the thought of Mrs Fitzpatrick’s face if she could see her now. It would be a perfect mask of horror. She’d probably even faint. Eve turned, looking up at Jesus crucified; his body bloodied from the nails and thorns. His eyes were turned heavenwards, and Eve looked up too. The ceiling of the church was too high for Eve to ever dream of reaching but she would still try.

A creak broke her concentration, and Eve whipped around her head making the latex of her habit whoosh and crack. Nothing. It was still the same dark church she had come into. Her heart hammered in her chest as she debated whether or not she could have made it up. She listened closely for further noises but she heard nothing for a few minutes. The sound of the wind howling outside only made her nerves race faster. She never saw church as a place to fear but now she was beginning to get nervous. The sound of a book (she assumed the Bible) falling made her jump and squeak in surprise.

“Fuck!”

Quiet once more. Eve was unsure if she should move or not. She tried to think logically but it was difficult to when the shadows seemed longer and darker than before. She couldn’t think of how the sounds could have happened and opted to slowly move away from the altar. She looked at Mary for guidance but she only looked calm. Eve tried to mimic that serenity but abandoned it quickly when a scratching sound filled her ears. She couldn’t place where it was coming from. The church echoed the scraping, making it sound simultaneously near and far from her. Panicking, Eve hurried down into the confessional, bringing her legs up to hug her knees. Would she even be safe here? She knew that confessionals were private spaces where no one could repeat what was uttered. She had lied to the priest many times, making up that she had said something bad about a classmate or told a fib to her parents. She wasn’t sure the same rules applied now.

The quiet click of the door next to hers opened and closed. Eve held her breath. Her eyes squeezed shut. She waited.

“Are you ready to confess your sins?”

Eve nearly choked.

“Come, my child. Speak.”

Eve frowned “Roman?” She stretched out her legs, unfolding her body in the small space before peering through the grating. The darkness made it hard to see who it was exactly but Eve had spent enough time in English staring at Roman’s profile to know it.

“That’s Father to you” he corrected cockily. She could hear the grin in his voice, and practically see the glint in his eye.

“That wasn’t funny” she muttered, wiping her clammy hands on her stockings.

“We’re not here to discuss my transgressions lamb” he purred “tell me, when was the last time you confessed your sins?”

“Fuck you.”

“All in due time” he paused waiting for her response, but Eve was stubborn “I’m waiting.”

“It’s been two weeks” Eve surrendered, giving in to Roman’s games like he knew she would.

“Have you touched yourself in those two weeks?”

“Roman, priests don’t ask things like that.”

“Who’s the priest here?”

Eve sighed “you are.”

“So who makes the rules?”

“God.”

Roman tsked “that bratty attitude is going to get you twenty hail Marys and a spanking if you don’t stop.”

Eve had to bite her lip as warmth spread down the rest of her body making her tingle “sorry Father.”

“Answer me. Have you sinned against God in the past fortnight by caressing that supple skin of yours?” His voice was in equal parts dominant and tempting. She wasn’t sure how Roman always seemed to achieve that perfect mix of making you do what he wanted but in a way where you wanted to; it was always guaranteed to have her obeying him though.

“Yes, Father.”

She could hear Roman groan very softly and a wave of confidence hit her, fuelling her heart to thump a little quicker, her cheeks to grow hotter, and her head to become dizzier. It was incredible, she would later note, how much Roman could do with just his voice. The first time she had heard his voice in English class she was surprised by how soft it was. It was still deep, with a cadence akin to honey when he was in a good mood. Even when he wasn’t and his voice was tight, dropping an octave or two if really pushed, Eve still felt a little thrill course through her when she heard it. She had tried to reason with herself; lecturing herself on how ridiculous it was to find someone’s anger attractive. Yet whenever she caught a snippet of fury from Roman she would have to sing the lyrics of ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’ in her head to dispel any further thoughts.

“I think of you on those nights, Father” her voice was barely above a whisper. It was almost as if it were on the verge of a moan. She could picture Roman’s jaw taut with tension so she kept going.

“When my skin is naked against my sheets in the middle of the night I picture you. Your hands on my warm skin and your teeth on my neck. I’m sure you’re the kind of man to leave hickeys, aren’t you Father? You would pick somewhere only you know so that it would become our little secret.” Eve was charged with some kind of sexual energy which kept the words tumbling out of her mouth but from the sound of it Roman was enjoying it.

“Maybe you’d leave bruises in the shape of a cross so that I would always remember that I’m your good, little, Catholic girl.” The sentence was punctuated with the sharp swinging of Roman’s door opening and slamming shut. Eve blinked in surprise and then sucked in her breath when she saw Roman in the small doorway of her side. It was harder to read his face than usual, probably because of the dark but Eve couldn’t misinterpret the hungry look in his eyes. His cheekbones looked sharper, illuminated by the moonlight and hugged by the shadows. Eve had to bite her lip because his neck adorned a priest’s collar. The bright white of it stood out against the black of his outfit.

“Are you ready for your repentance?” She nodded “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Father.” She tried to swallow and wet her throat but it was bone dry. Roman approached her, ordering her to stand before him. There was scarcely any space so Eve had to make sure to stay still. Roman regarded her outfit, working his way from the bottom to the top of it. He stopped on her face.

“This isn’t very virtuous” he said lightly, his actions weren’t as soft however. He tugged off the habit, letting Eve’s dark curls free of their confinement. Her dress was next to go, and the lycra squeaked in protest but Roman didn’t care. He fingered her cross, lifting it so that Eve had to crane her neck towards him. His lips were on her throat and she struggled to breathe as Roman’s mouth left a couple of open mouth kisses on the area of her neck, under her chin. He dragged his lips downwards, making Eve whimper before she gasped when she felt him suck at her skin. His teeth brushed over the skin, teasing her before nipping and eventually biting. The concoction of pain and pleasure was making Eve tremble with delight. It felt as though her prayers were finally being answered. Although he wasn’t tugging as hard as before, Roman still held her cross in his hands, feeling the edges and corners of the holy item. He could feel them indent the pads of his fingers but he didn’t care. This twisted mix of sacred and sacrilege was more fun than he could have ever imagined, and the way Eve succumbed to it was the icing on the cake.

“Roman!” The part of her neck he had ceased his actions on was tender to touch, and Eve knew that there was no way she could cover it up.

“Looks like you were wrong” he said, his voice almost taunting “why leave my mark where only I know where it is when I could have everyone know where it is.” Roman smiled devilishly, revelling in the bruise forming. On her skin it came out like a dark flower, and Roman hoped it would fade to an indigo. The thought of seeing her in class, her fragile, brown neck decorated with his teeth marks was exciting, and Roman made sure to leave a few smaller ones, forming the shape of a cross on her neck. Proud of his work, he pulled on the cross so that her head moved and he could have a better view of his handy work.

“Perfection” he purred, rewarding his canvas with several scorching kisses on the mouth which she eagerly accepted. He regarded her while she struggled to catch her breath, wondering what he should do to her. He could have her on his lap. It was admittedly, probably Roman’s favourite position. He liked it when he could sit back and watch, and as a consequence voyeurism was high on Roman’s list of kinks. It was that which gave him an idea.

“Sit back” he ordered, his voice wasn’t harsh but Eve didn’t think twice and sat back on the bench, hissing as the cool wood touched her burning skin. She bit her lip waiting for further instruction. She squirmed, both because of his intense gaze and because she desperately wanted him to relieve her of the want between her legs.

“Touch me” she asked, her ask was on the very verge of begging which made Roman’s lips twitch into a grin.

“No” he said, watching her face morph into an expression of dismay “you can touch yourself however.” Her face changed again, looking bashful at the thought.

“I-I can’t!”

“Of course you can” Roman said dismissively “you said yourself that you touched yourself to the thought of me, why can’t you do it now when I’m here?”

Her mind buzzed with reasons why she couldn’t. The setting of the church, the way Roman could stare without blinking, the embarrassment of masturbating in front of the person you masturbated about… Roman waited patiently, and she knew that she couldn’t counter him without him having a perfect rebuttal.

“Here, what about I join you” he said, and Eve’s eyes widened to the size of the communion plate when she saw Roman take out his hard dick. It stood up in his cupped palm, a glimmer of pre cum sitting on top. A fresh bout of lust overcame Eve like a tidal wave, and without her even realising it, her own hand had found her engorged clit and began to circle it with her index finger.

“Roman” she moaned, watching as his actions mimicked her own. When she went faster so did he; when her eyes were glued to his movements so were his. She opened herself up more, leaning against the hard wood of the confessional and bringing her leg up to have better access. Her body was slick with sweat from being in such a small space, and the scent of her arousal mingled with the frankincense and wood varnish.

“Finger yourself” Roman growled, and Eve slipped one digit into herself. Her walls were slippery and tight, and she whimpered as she curved her fingers in search for the right spot. Her eyes rolled back as she found her g spot, and Roman cursed under his breath as his hand quickened. The sound of slapping, squelching, sighing filled the church as well as any hymn could.

Eve was fast approaching her orgasm, and she mewled in broken speech to Roman that she was close. He told her to cum and with a few more pumps of her fingers Eve’s half lidded eyes squeezed shut, holding the image of Roman’s thrusting hips and face of ecstasy as she reached her orgasm. The white hot lights that pierced her vision almost had Eve believing that God himself was in front of her, and the come down was far longer than any other orgasm she had ever experienced. She felt something hot and sticky drip onto her body like the beeswax of an altar candle but more viscous. When she opened her eyes, she saw the beauty of Roman’s orgasm face. He looked like an angel in a renaissance painting, but his cum leaking onto her tits was devilish more than anything. She watched his face, flushed like communion wine, come down. His panting devolved to breathing, matching her own, and he opened his eyes. They didn’t say anything, and instead shared in the descend of their shared religious experience.

 


	2. All things bright and beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman meets Eve after church for some quality time with nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn’t my most popular fic but I really liked writing it so I wrote a second part to it! I didn’t edit this and also I wrote all of this on public transport, so if you’re ever in London and you see some brown girl typing on her phone on the tube then chances are that was me.

Sunday service had ended and Eve groaned, stretching her arms out in front of her, waiting for her parents to stop talking to Father Hill. She smiled politely at her fellow congregation members, saying hello, and god bless, and yes it was a lovely service. Her Sunday dress ruffled in the wind, it was starting to get wintry in Hemlock Grove and soon she would have to start wearing her gloves. She stuck her hands in her pockets, looking towards the trees that surrounded the church.   
And then she saw him.   
He was leaning against a tree, cigarette dangling between his lips as always. The collar on his jacket was turned up to shield him from the wind, but Eve suspected that it was really just so that he could look all cool and mysterious. He caught her eye and then turned away to leave. This was their way of silently speaking to each other.   
“Um, sorry” she interrupted her parents “I’m just going to go um, take a walk” admittedly it wasn’t her finest lie. Her parents looked confused.   
“I understand” Father Hill said “you need time to contemplate on the service, I saw the way you were pondering Jesus speaking to the Samaritan woman.”  
“Oh, yes” she said “something about that really resonated with me.” In actual fact she was thinking about Roman fucking her in his car the other night but sure, she could work with this. With the religious authority of the local priest on her side her parents couldn’t deny her this, and With their blessing she disappeared into the woods.   
The autumn colours were beginning to disappear away, it would perhaps be another month before winter would truly come and replace the reds and golds with white. Eve liked being in the forest, though with the darkness coming quicker than before she would usually avoid being there. Roman liked the forest too. She thought about how happy he was when he would take a detour driving through the woods slowly, enjoying the crisp air and silence. It was a side of Roman she hadn’t seen before and even though she knew that their relationship was strictly sex, she couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest when he wouldn’t immediately push her off of him. Sometimes he’d let her sit in the passenger seat, both panting after their latest round and he’d share a cigarette with her, sometimes he’d lazily point to the sky and say “that cloud looks like a rabbit”. Last time they had been together he had driven them to the nearby diner and they ate a stack of pancakes each. It had almost been like they were dating.   
She contemplated the paradox of roman Godfrey as she walked deeper into the woods. She looked up, pausing her walking to admire the way the noon sun looked through the leaves but this moment was interrupted when a hand pressed over her mouth. She was pulled backwards so that the back of her slammed against her assailant.   
“Now what’s a good girl like you doing in the big, bad woods alone?” They asked and Eve struggled against the hand, clawing and elbowing her way free.   
“God, you’re such a dick Roman!” Ever since Halloween he had loved to sneak up on her; it was as if he took some kind of pleasure in seeing her scared. She turned to face him, crossing her arms and scowling.  
“Aw, was my little red riding hood scared?”   
“Fuck you” she muttered, looking down to kick at the leaves on the ground angrily. She had half a mind to turn away and leave him.  
“Don’t pout like that” he said, trying to pull her into his arms to kiss her but she turned her face and his lips collided with her cheek instead.   
“Eve” he said and she stuck her tongue out at him which only made him laugh “Oh Eve... I’m devastated. You’ve wounded me” he clutched at his chest dramatically “you’ve broken my heart!”   
She rolled her eyes, mildly amused at his playfulness and he held her closer to him so that she had to stumble forward, flush against him.   
“Do you forgive me?” She shakes her head and he kisses the corner of her mouth “what about now?” She shakes her head again and he kisses her again “now?” Eve fights a smile but shakes her head once more and Roman presses his lips against her chin, and her jaw, and her neck, punctuating each kiss with a ‘now?’   
“Surely now?”   
“No.”   
“Hmmmm...” Roman lets go of her and Eve shivered at how cold it was without him pressed against her. He takes her hand, something uncharacteristic of him, and pulls her to a nearby tree. Her back was pressed against the bark and her arms made to wrap around the tree in a backwards hug.   
“Keep them there” Roman instructed and even though she wasn’t in the mood to be obedient she did so, curious to see what he was going to do.   
“Roman?” She tried to ask him but he hushed her and walked back to his car. For a fleeting moment she thought he might just drive away and her cheeks flooded with hot embarrassment at the idea. He noticed her distressed look when he came back carrying coils of black rope in his hands.   
“What’s wrong?” He asked, sounding soft despite the snake like rope in his hands.   
“Nothing. It’s dumb” she muttered, he looked at her, almost pressing her for answers “I thought you were going to leave me here.”  
She thought maybe he would laugh but instead he cupped her cheek tenderly and brought his face close enough for their noses to brush.   
“I would never” he said, and though his voice was soft he sounded firm enough to have her breathe a sigh of relief.   
“So what are you going to do?”   
Roman’s devilish smile returned and he winked in response, unraveling the rope and wrapping it around her. Once, twice, three times he circled the tree making the restraint around her torso tight enough so that she couldn’t struggle. A silent thrill ran down her spine as she slowly realised what was happening. Roman had introduced restraints and bondage slowly, starting with her wrists and then her ankles at first, and then moving onto spreader bars and cuffs, although sometimes when he was desperate for her he’d just gather her wrists in his hands.   
“Poor little church girl” he murmured, after checking that she was safe and secure.   
“All alone in the woods in that pretty Sunday dress of yours” his hand traced over the powder blue hem of her dress. Her mother had insisted on buying the dress years ago despite her daughter’s protests against it.   
“It looks like it should belong on a doll” Eve had complained, eyeing the bows and lace with disgust.   
“Is that meant to be a bad thing?” Her mother said, a raised eyebrow but generally unamused expression on her face.   
“Yes” her mother ignored this and bought the dress.   
“So pretty” Roman crooned, his fingers ghosted over the little bow at the base of her throat. His hands crept up to her neck, squeezing for a few seconds and then letting go.   
“Roman” she whimpered when his teeth began to nip lightly on her skin. His teeth always felt particularly pointed, maybe because when he was in a rough mood he would often bite down on her lips, painting both her mouth and his teeth a crimson red.   
His hands caressed over her breasts, squeezing the pliant flesh but because of the rope he couldn’t get to her skin, much to Eve’s frustration. What was the point of tying her to the tree like this if he couldn’t even touch her where she wanted him? She was willing to tell him this too, but the only sound that left her lips was a gasp when Roman suddenly slid onto his knees and latched his mouth onto the skin above her knee. His lips on her thigh were scorching hot and each one only made her wetter and wetter. His fingers gently massaged the skin, making her tingle all over. She desperately wanted to move her hips and ride out the sensation but her movement was extremely limited. At the apex of her thigh he sucked at her skin, and Eve was quietly relieved that for once she wouldn’t have to worry about covering it up. The last time had been so difficult that Eve had exhausted every website given to her when she googled ‘how do you hide a hickie?’   
Mostly roman would take her underwear off with his teeth like a predator, and would then stuff them into his pocket ‘for later’ he would say. This time Eve opened her eyes in confusion when she felt something cold and smooth against her skin.   
A knife.   
“Don’t worry sweetheart” Roman said softly, though his voice was dark “you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my favourite girl.” With this reassurance she watched as his head disappeared up her skirt again, the cool metal of the blade grazing her skin while she trembled. She had to bite her lip quickly, focusing on Roman, and the knife, and the way her heart was somersaulting in her chest with adrenaline.  
There was a tugging, a snap, and then cold air against her hot skin. She gasped, feeling semi scandalised, semi excited by the sight of Roman grinning and collecting her torn panties.   
He glanced up at her to read her expression, and triumphed in her the way her brown cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes glimmered in the afternoon light. He enthralled her in his careful wrapping of the knife in her ruined underwear. The cotton was permeated with her wetness, and Roman revelled in the way her juices dampened the metal of his blade. This was them. Their scent mingled together just as their bodies had on so many occasions.   
Eve’s tongue flicked across her lips “Why do you want these?” He took the ones that he liked the most, the pairs edged with lace, or the ones that were silky soft. It didn’t make sense to take the ordinary, faded cotton.   
“I like these” he said simply, not providing a real explanation. He wouldn’t reveal his true feelings, at least not now, but truthfully Roman liked anything of Eve’s. Once she had left her lipgloss in his car accidentally and he had revered the object, obsessively thinking about she put this on her lips. He, himself had messily smeared the gloss on his own lips in an involuntary kiss. He liked feeling close to her, thinking about her when she wasn’t around. English quickly became his favourite class because he could stare at her for a whole 60minutes uninterrupted. He would listen to her make points in class and then think about how she was the only intelligent one in this class.   
Right now however, Eve’s mind wasn’t on anything intelligent. Roman’s head had disappeared up her skirt again, and his tongue was lavishing her skin with generous licks. He used the tip of his tongue to massage the skin near her Centre, making her whimper and Beg.   
“Roman please” She panted much to his delight. He indulged her, and brought his hands up to grip at her hips while he ate her out. His lips secured around her clit, sucking and writing his name with his tongue as she moaned and groaned and mewled helplessly. It was such a sight that Roman wondered idly if someone were to see them what they would do.   
“Fucking Christ” Eve’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Roman’s two fingers entered her and began pumping and curling as only they knew how to do. The bark scratched her arms but she didn’t care, all that mattered was that Roman kept doing what he did best. He continued at a steady pace, only increasing his speed when he felt his thighs tremble against his cheeks. It didn’t take long for Roman to have Eve’s sweet cum on his tongue. He was delighted to feel his tongue encounter her flushed flesh, still sensitive and wonderfully creamy. It was a revelation that he stored away for future reference. He pressed a final kiss on her mound and then stood up, making quick work of the rope.   
Eve’s arms and legs were tender from the scraping of the rope against her skin, and she whimpered helplessly into Roman’s chest when he embraced her. He cooed soft praises into her hair, holding her for what felt like hours but in reality was minutes.   
He cupped her face in his hands, her eyes were blurry with tears and her cheeks red.   
“You okay?” He asked, he worried that he had pushed her too far this time. Besides the rope burns her arms were scratched up from the bark of the tree, and her dress had some marks on it.   
She nodded, unable to voice anything yet. She was surprised when Roman gave her a kiss on the cheek, nuzzling his nose against hers. He was surprisingly tense for someone who was rock hard.   
“Can you walk?” He asked and she nodded, taking a tiny step forward. She was grateful for his arm around her, walking her back to the car and opening the door for her. He even did her seatbelt for her before joining her.   
“Where are we going?” She finally said, her voice felt hoarse.   
“My place” he said simply. Eve had never been to Roman’s house before.   
“Your place?”   
“I thought we could take a bath” he said “give your dress a wash, and tend to those scratches.” She looked at the angry red lines that tattooed her arms.   
“You’d do that for me?”  
“I’d do anything for you” he said softly. She wanted to press him about that statement but she didn’t and instead they drove in comfortable silence, feeling something blossom between them. 


End file.
